


scotland-bound

by calebwidogast



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, between 159 and 160, theyre both so dumb about feelings tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-22 11:10:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22482022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calebwidogast/pseuds/calebwidogast
Summary: the drive to scotland is a very long one, when it's filled with awkward silences.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 8
Kudos: 145





	scotland-bound

martin woke up on the floor of his bedroom, tangled in his blankets. he stared forward at the space under his bed, forcing his brain to catch up and figure out why he was on the ground.

everything filled in at once, and martin took a sharp, shaky breath as he remembered everything that had happened yesterday. he squeezed his hands into fists, trying to ground himself, and sat up to untangle himself. they were leaving london today, him and jon- jon, who was using his bed, who martin realised as he stood was actually sleeping for once.

he let himself look for just a moment, breathing a laugh at the way jon’s brow was furrowed even in his sleep, and then swept up the stack of clothes he’d prepared the night before to change into.

it didn’t feel right to wake jon up, so he busied himself making sure everything he needed was packed, making sure his and jon’s things were by the door, making sure he knew where his keys were, making sure the food for the car was ready.

his gaze fell on his windowsill of house plants. he sighed before he could stop himself- he’d gotten these after he was able to come back to his flat, when jane prentiss had driven him out, ages and ages ago. caring for them had been like making it up to the plants that had died in his absence while he lived at the archives. it wasn’t like he could bring them, though.

“you should have woken me.” jon’s voice said behind him, raspy and exhausted.

martin, of course, nearly jumped out of his skin. he whipped around and hissed, “don’t _do_ that, jesus!”

“sorry, i thought you’d…” jon said, reaching out a sleeve-covered hand just slightly before second guessing it and drawing it back to cross his arms. 

he looked even smaller, more withdrawn in martin’s sweater, which he’d had to borrow when they realised jon had forgotten his pyjamas in their rush to get things together last night. luckily, he’d left sweatpants at the bottom of the bag he’d picked up the last time he used it however long ago, because martin knew nothing he had would come even close to fitting jon.

“you’re fine.” martin said, quickly closing his eyes and taking a breath. “you just walk very quietly.”

he opened his eyes again to see the smallest of smiles cross jon’s face. “sorry.”

“it’s alright.” he reassured, and then turned halfway to face the kitchen. “i don’t have much in the way of breakfast that’ll go in the car, but i packed your basic snacks. no, uh…” he trailed off for a moment. “no word from basira, so i’m not sure that we’ll get anything from the institute for a while.”

jon shook his head, and martin pointedly avoided staring at his bedhead. “i’m not worried about it now. i feel… well, peter lukas was-”

martin cut him off. “good, then that’s dealt with for now. you, uh, want to get ready, then? we might as well go straight away.”

he could have laughed at the way jon blinked at him, confused for a moment, before he looked down at the borrowed sweater he was wearing. “r-right, yeah.”

martin respectfully ignored the way jon’s ears went red as he turned to go find his change of clothes.

when he had changed, they put their pyjamas into jon’s bag, which had more room leftover. it struck martin how put-together jon looked, even as it felt like their world was ending. they were going into hiding and jon still wore his shirt tucked neatly into his pants, and martin was comforted by how _normal_ it felt.

“i’ll drive.” jon offered as martin lifted the box of food, his suitcase of clothing, and his backpack to try and balance it all in his arms properly.

“no, you won’t, if you can get any more rest you’d better.” martin said, waiting as jon closed the door behind him, shuffling his carry-on suitcase between them.

jon scowled, “you need a nap just as much as i do.”

“then we’ll switch off.” martin said, leading them to his car. “but i’m driving first.”

jon helped put everything in the trunk and then begrudgingly opened the passenger door while martin smiled sweetly at him from the drivers’ side.

martin tried not to focus on his nerves as they navigated the london traffic. once they were out of the city he would feel better. he wasn’t sure if jon knew or if he Knew, but he was quiet, which helped martin focus on just driving.

his breath hitched every time he heard sirens, no matter how distant they were. out of the corner of his eye, he saw jon’s hands twitch as if he wanted to reach over every time martin held his breath, and martin wasn’t sure what to think about it.

the third time, the sirens were closer, and martin bit the inside of his cheek nervously before he extended his hand to jon, not sure if it was for jon’s comfort or his own. whatever the case, when he took jon’s scarred hand in his own, he felt better.

“you should really try and rest.” martin said, his voice softer than he’d expected it to be when he’d been holding his breath for practically twenty minutes.

“only just got up.” jon reminded him. “i know you’re worried, but i feel fine.”

martin nodded mostly to himself. “can’t fault me for checking.”

“no, you’re right.” jon chuckled. “i suppose i can’t, with my track record.”

martin smiled as jon leaned his head against the window anyways. “we’ve only got a little of this traffic left, that’s not going to be comfortable when the car’s actually moving.”

they talked about nothing for another hour, which martin realised they hadn’t done in… he couldn’t figure out how long. he wasn’t sure what counted as just casual conversation, but it was nice. the freedom to talk about nothing and _laugh_ with jon did something strange to his heart, and he hoped to god jon couldn’t sense that as soon as he thought it.

“how far out do we have to be before we can stop?” jon asked, tapping his fingers where the door and the window met.

“i dunno, warrington? we’re sort of sticking on the obvious path, so i’d like to get a little further out before we stop anywhere.”

martin didn’t have to look at jon to tell he wasn’t fond of the plan.

“it just doesn’t feel… safe.” martin said. “there’s plenty out for our heads right now.”

jon nodded. “i know that.” he kept tapping his fingers as he said, “let’s get off the m6 so we can get out and stretch our legs a little.” it was a statement, but the way he said it was more like a suggestion.

“...alright, find somewhere thirty minutes off the road.” martin said, pulling his phone out of the cupholder and unlocking it to hand over to jon. he had been getting antsy too, trying not to let it bother him.

“and then we can switch driving when we get back in.” jon said.

martin snorted. “i don’t mind, you know.”

“it’s just fair.” jon shrugged, an air of his casual confidence in his voice. martin had missed that, he realised, and he decided he would let jon have this one.

forty minutes later, they pulled into the tiny car park of an aging bookshop. it looked like it shouldn’t still be standing in some places, but jon seemed sure about it, and they were really only here to get out and stretch, so martin didn’t mind.

the door opened a little loosely and a bell chimed as they walked in. a bored, half-asleep looking cashier glanced up from behind the counter. “welcome in.” she nodded toward them, and martin smiled back at her.

“doesn’t feel… weird, or anything?” martin murmured to jon.

jon shrugged. “i’m trying not to just… Know, so much.”

martin nodded. “sorry, yeah… well, gut check, then?”

“it’s alright.” jon smiled.

the place was even smaller than it had looked from outside, and the walkways were cramped with books that wouldn’t fit on shelves. martin had to admire the look of it- it was a place he could picture himself sitting down in some corner, pulling out a notebook, settling with a cup of tea and writing a while.

“come on, let’s… find you some poetry to read.” jon said, walking ahead to scan titles and authors.

martin could have cried with the amount of affection for jon that hit him all at once, but managed to just blush instead. “a-and for you? i’m sure daisy hasn’t exactly got a library, we ought to find you something.”

jon nodded, and martin couldn’t help but admire his profile as he turned halfway back to talk, and pull a book off the shelf to inspect it. “no, probably not her style.” he trailed off a moment as he read the back, thumbing the edges of its pages. “do we really have the money for that, though?”

“i’ve been saving what would’ve been going to my mum’s nursing home since, uh-”

“right.” jon cut in helpfully. “well, that cushion aside, we don’t have any income.”

“our savings are going to have to last a while, then.” martin half-laughed, biting the inside of his cheek. “basira mentioned trying to help when we needed it, but…”

jon shook his head. “we can’t keep… we can’t ask that of her.”

“yeah, i feel the same way.” martin said. “we’ll figure it out. we can get a couple books.”

martin ended up gathering as many books that sounded half-interesting as he could for under a couple quid. most of the books here were well-read, with torn corners and cracked spines, priced well under half a pound, so he settled on five and met back up with jon, who was in a corner almost exactly like the one martin had daydreamed up.

“find anything alright?” martin asked.

jon started a little and looked up from the book he’d been skimming. “just two. you look like you had better luck.”

“tried to get all new stuff. don’t want to get bored if i have to reread them a few times.” martin said.

jon nodded absently and looked back down at his book. “ideally, we won’t be stuck that long. or stuck with just those books, at least.” after a few moments, he looked up again and scanned the titles martin held. if he noticed a lack of poetry, he said nothing. the silence grew as jon looked back at his own book again.

“i’ll… let you keep looking.” martin decided. they split up again, but it didn’t take him long to realise he was feeling anxious about being pursued, though he’d been trying to avoid the train of thought. he battled with the idea of telling jon for several minutes before he finally willed himself to do it. he sought jon out and found him a few rows of books away from where he’d last seen him.

“jon?”

jon hummed a reply.

“as much as i’d love to spend the afternoon here...” martin began.

it took him jon moment to look up, but when he did he checked his watch and blinked in surprise. “i had no idea-”

martin shook his head, wracking his brain for a response. “uh- it’s alright, are you ready to go buy these?” he asked, holding out his hand to take jon’s picks.

jon nodded and handed them over. “i... did get as much out in cash as i could, you know. i can pay for mine.”

ignoring the way their hands brushed as he took the books and willing his face to stay its normal hue, martin shrugged. “i don’t mind. plus, i figure it’ll mostly be going- well, i mean, since we’re… same pool of funds, really, so…”

mercifully, they reached the front counter when martin ran out of things to say. the cashier paid them little mind as she checked them out and he took the bag from her, reaching in to straighten the books as they walked out. when he looked back up, jon was standing almost cheerfully on the drivers’ side of the car.

martin scowled. “it’s my car-” he started.

“it would be rude of me not to drive a while.” jon said, holding out his hand for the keys. “you look like you could use a nap.”

“and _that_ was very kind.” martin snorted, then wondered if that was too cold. jon was right, after all- he was still exhausted, and last night’s sleep was fitful at best. he fumbled into his pocket for the keys and handed them over, his and jon’s fingers brushing again, and said, “don’t wreck my car.”

jon arced a brow. “i’m a fine driver.”

“it’s not a fine car.” martin chuckled. “brakes are a little slow, just be careful.” he made his way around to the passenger side and jiggled the handle a little as he waited for jon to open the door.

jon was still rolling his eyes when martin sat down. “patience is a virtue, you know.”

martin buckled in and leaned his head back on the headrest, turning it halfway to look over at jon. he thought briefly all the way back to when jon had first become head archivist. “yeah, i think i know that.”

there was a long moment’s silence, and martin wasn’t sure if he was thinking so loud that jon couldn’t help but Know or not, but jon just turned his eyes to his phone and said, “could you read me the address?”

“you can use my phone.” martin said, leaning to pull it out of his pocket.

“and if it locks while you’re asleep?” jon asked.

martin huffed. “well, if i do fall asleep, you can just wake me up.”

jon glanced at him and said simply, “i seem to recall you not waking me out of concern, so i’d like to return the favor.”

“well, we’ll put the directions on your phone, but…”

jon took martin’s phone to copy over the address onto his own. “but you’re not tired.”

“right!” martin said lightly, throwing jon an overexaggerated smile.

jon handed back martin’s phone and started the car. they made their way back onto the road and jon said, after a very, very long while, “sorry about your- your plants. i noticed them on the windowsill, while we were getting everything together.”

the statement startled martin so much that he laughed. “th- the plants? jon, i’m not worried- that’s the _least_ of my worries right now.”

he turned in time to see jon flush, just slightly.

“i mean, you’re right, though, i didn’t want to leave them. but it’s alright.” martin continued. “they’re just plants. there’s a lot worse… well, you know.”

jon hummed his agreement. the following silence stretched.

“i’ll get some in scotland.” martin suggested, not sure how else to reply, and was surprised to see the corner of jon’s lips tip up in the beginnings of a smile. “you don’t seem like the gardening type, but do you have anything special in mind?”

jon shook his head, his face softening further. “no, i don’t. the striped one was nice.”

that was the first one martin had gotten when he started his windowsill garden back up. he smiled as he said, “snake plant. they’re meant to be impossible to kill, and it’s held up so far.”

with a snort, jon said, “well, maybe that’ll be a good starter plant for me. get me used to it.”

“there you go.” martin said. “what about- do you… you obviously don’t garden.” he said, for the second time in as many minutes. “what’s your gardening?” he tried not to visibly react to his own terrible wording.

jon only floundered for a second in response, for which martin was very grateful. “i, uh, cook. whenever i have the time.” he stopped for such a long time martin thought that was the end of the thought, but then finally added, “haven’t really… had much lately…”

this time the silence stuck as martin tried to think up something to say, but he knew next to nothing about cooking. after what felt like several minutes, he asked, “do you have a favourite dish?”

martin watched jon’s brows knit together as he thought about it, and turned away as it struck him how _cute_ the expression was. his elbow was resting against the window, and when he turned he hid his mouth with his hand, hoping it looked more natural than it felt.

“i can’t think of one now.” jon admitted. “it’s hard to choose- i just like trying new things out.”

nodding, martin said, “well, when we hit the shops in scotland, you can see… what looks interesting, i guess?”

“within reason.” jon agreed. “did you have any- any favourite meals to suggest?”

that took martin off guard, for some reason, and he tried to ignore away the light blush he could feel on his cheeks. “uh- n-not really a food guy at all, actually. mostly stick to my, ah, pre-mades and tins and things.”

jon nodded. “well, hopefully you’re not too terribly attached to the… lifestyle.”

“no.” martin laughed against his hand. “no, i wouldn’t complain about trying something a little different.”

there was silence between them again, and martin couldn’t tell if it was particularly uncomfortable or not, so he decided it wasn’t worth the effort of making some feeble attempt to break it.

despite his anxiety, having jon there helped. he kept his face in his hand, gazing out the window, listening to jon breathe, the road passing beneath them, the occasional loud gust of wind whipping up past them.

eventually, he must have dozed off, because he suddenly jolted awake as the car hit a little bump. he blinked as whatever lingering memory of his dream left him, and paused for a second to make sure he hadn’t drooled all over his hand, or something embarrassing. when he was sure, he sat up, pushing his hair back absentmindedly with his other hand.

“how long was i asleep?” martin asked, cursing himself for the grogginess lingering in his voice.

“about an hour?” jon guessed. he glanced over at martin, something like amusement on his face, and informed him, “you mumble a bit in your sleep.”

martin could feel his face go hot with embarrassment. “oh, great.” he said, covering the side facing jon with his hand. “sure that was lovely.”

jon said, “not to worry, i- i wasn’t listening too hard.”

martin couldn’t decide if being unable to remember whatever he’d been dreaming about was better or worse. he kept his face in his hand, biting back the urge to grimace, for what felt like an eternity before his blush finally started to subside.

the silence stretched between them for a while more before jon said, “i know you were concerned about being followed, so i took a little detour. just a few backroads, so we’re off the obvious route.”

“i-” martin said before he had really thought about what he was going to continue with. “h-how much time until we get there, then?”

“we’ll be driving past when it gets dark.” jon told him. “maybe around, uh, half eight? nine?”

discomfort bloomed in martin’s chest. he _hated_ driving in the dark, but the idea of making jon drive any more was equally unpleasant. “we- it’s not…” martin trailed off.

he hesitated so long that jon prompted, “...martin?”

“i don’t like driving at night.” he said. “i know you drove out of the way for me, i-i’m not upset, but i don’t think we should drive at night-”

“i’m a fine driver.” jon reminded him, his voice softening just a little. “i- don’t mind driving at night.”

“w-would you mind stopping?” martin said, his face going red yet again. “we can find an inn, or something, i- i’ll pay for it, of course, just…”

“martin.” jon said, his voice firm.

martin said, “i’m sorry, i know it’s…”

“i was going to say that it’s fine.” jon said. when martin looked up, he saw that his face was just a little red, too. “i don’t… want to make you uncomfortable. go ahead and pull something up on your phone.”

“thank you.” martin breathed, biting back another apology.

jon hummed in reply. he switched their phones when martin had pulled up the directions, and then seemed to think of something. he said, a little haltingly, “you… ought to call and see if they have a room, first.”

of course, martin immediately latched onto the fact that jon suggested _one_ room, and he stumbled through saying, “of course, yeah, should- can i take your phone? or mine?”

“mine’s alright, so i can keep the directions.” jon said. he unlocked his phone when martin handed it back over and then added, “thank you.”

“oh- ‘course.” martin said. he looked the place up again on jon’s phone and then tapped the call button.

when the voice on the other end answered, he asked, “hi, i was wondering if you had an open room tonight?”

“let’s take a look…” there was a staticy pause, which made martin breathe a little sharply. after a moment, the employee said, “it looks like there’s a two twin bed room on the ground floor.”

he didn’t know how relieved he was to hear that he wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor yet again. “that’s- lovely, yes, that works out perfectly.”

he went ahead and booked the room for the night.

as soon as he hung up, jon said, “how very… professional.”

martin laughed in surprise. “i- yes, i know how to hold a phone call, jon.”

“i- i know, that, it’s just different. you don’t sound like, ah, yourself, i suppose.” jon said, his voice catching a little.

the fact that it sounded like he had been caught off guard forced a smile onto martin’s face.

“i- sure hope the inn has a tv. didn’t think to ask.” martin said, the thought coming to him out of nowhere. he realised that they’d be there decently early, and it wasn’t like there was a lot to do in places like that. “don’t wanna waste our books.”

“it’ll be alright.” jon said. he looked like he wanted to add something else, but wasn’t sure exactly what.

they fell into one of their slightly less awkward silences, and by the time they reached the inn, martin was antsy to get out. he grabbed his and jon’s bags before jon had the chance to offer to take his own, and as they walked in jon said, “you don’t have to- i can- i mean, i packed my bag, i can carry it.”

“s’fine.” martin said, and the conversation paused while he checked them in and took their key. he continued as they went to their room, “just habit, i guess. and it’s polite.”

he let jon take the key and unlock the door, though, because he didn’t want to make things more awkward. they stepped into the room and jon took a quietest of steadying breaths. the place was tiny, with two twin beds separated only by a little shared bedside table. there was a tv, on the wardrobe opposite the beds, but martin was sure that it was the oldest tv that he’d ever seen. the doors next to the wardrobe opened to the toilet, and a tiny closet with an ironing board in it.

“well…” martin began. “er…”

jon took the two steps forward that it took to reach the wardrobe to set the key down.

“at least it’s clean? kept up rather nicely?” martin offered.

“it’s only a night.” jon reasoned, turning back to take his bag from martin. “you think that thing gets the bbc?” he asked, pointing a thumb back at the dinosaur of a television.

martin snorted as he handed over jon his things.

after a glance at both beds, jon pointed to the one furthest from the door. “do… you have a preference, or can i have this one?”

“all yours.” martin shrugged. he set down his own bag on the bed closest to him and rummaged in it for a while before pulling out a book. he’d brought several from home, and now seemed as good a time as any to read it and save the others for the safehouse.

he toed off his shoes and sat on the bed, flipping to his bookmarked page.

only a few sentences in, jon said, “i… i’m sorry. about everything- god, there’s a list to apologise for, i- i’d b-”

“jon.” martin said, his voice firm.

jon’s mouth snapped audibly shut.

“you’re fine. you’re- you’re safe now, best you can be, and so am i, and we’re going to… figure things out, alright? i’m not upset, ab-about anything, so it’s… it’s alright.” martin said, pointedly not looking up. if he did, he would see jon upset- with him, because of him, and he really couldn’t deal with that, not when things were already starting to feel fuzzy around the edges again. “you don’t have to be upset about it, because i’m not. and y- well, you can be upset with what i did, but you’re alright.”

jon let out a slow sigh. “i’m not upset at you.”

jon wasn’t compelling him, but he felt compelled to look up anyways, even though he was trying so hard not to. jon’s face was more vulnerable than he’d ever seen, maybe even when jon had been in a coma, and martin had to look away again before the worry on it started to linger in his head.

“i just- just don’t understand.” jon continued.

martin laughed, more out of shock than anything else, and he could have sworn it echoed just slightly. jon hadn’t listened to the tape. of course he hadn’t, there’d been no time, but martin was so caught up in everything he hadn’t thought about it. he’d thought, maybe, jon knew enough to _get_ martin’s motives, but he’d been wrong.

jon didn’t know.

“that is-” martin began, and faltered. “jon, that is too much for right now, and i promise i _will_ explain, but i- i can’t- not right now. please.”

he looked up and met jon’s solemn eyes. “i’m just glad you’re- you’re back.” he added.

“i’m glad you’re back, too.” jon said, his voice quiet, an agreement. later.

martin knew, distantly, he could probably disappear if he wanted to. fade away and come back when the moment was less awkward, less charged, less stressful. even as he thought that, he felt something about his edges start to fuzz, so he took a deep breath and forced himself to say, “i’m getting here. er- there. whichever.”

“we both are, i thi- eugh!” jon cut himself off, and martin looked up to see him quickly drawing both legs up onto his bed. he didn’t look up, but he seemed to know that martin had looked, and he was quickly going red. “there- there’s a spider, sorry, it uh- it startled me.” he trailed off, still staring at the ground between their beds.

martin bit back a chuckle, and fought to keep his expression neutral. “i can get it.” he leaned over to look, and it was a tiny thing. martin reminded himself that it was perfectly reasonable for jon to be nervous about spiders considering the fact they might have _allegiance_ , and scooted over to step down next to it.

“just a normal little one. zebra spider, i think.” he said to no one in particular, taking a post-it from the bedside table and scooping it up. “i’m… going to have to get past you to get to the window, is that…”

jon was on his feet remarkably quickly, moving well out of the way.

the window was open, and the spider put out in no time at all.

“that’s… reassuring.” jon sighed from behind him.

“i really do think it was just a normal spider.” martin said, turning as he closed the window tightly. “they come in more around this time of year.”

“lovely.” jon said drily. “that’s… _also_ very reassuring.”

“o-oh, sorry…” martin began.

jon waved him off. “it’s alright. you- well, you’re here to take care of them.”

martin could swear jon was blushing again, and the awareness of it steadied him enough to ignore the fuzz, enough to blush a little himself. “yes, i am. and i don’t mind at all.”

with a smile that seemed only a little strained, jon said, “thank you.”

martin smiled back and stepped around to go pick up his book again, propping his pillow against the wall and sitting back against it. jon pulled his bag onto the end of his bed and began fishing around in it as martin flipped open his book again.

after a while, when they both had settled in, the silence that fell was finally, mercifully, not completely awkward. when martin found himself distracted from reading, unsure of how long it’d been, he thought the quiet was almost comforting. it took him a moment to realise they were reading in the near-dark, though, and he let out a surprised breath.

jon only looked up when he flipped on the bedside table lamp. “oh.”

“i guess it got late.” martin said, checking his phone for the time. “we’ll leave a little earlier tomorrow than we did today, just to get it over with?”

“sure- are you going to insist you drive?” jon asked, setting his finger down on the page where he had paused.

martin chuckled. “you know it.”

jon rolled his eyes and martin bit back another laugh. “then you have no excuse to- to worry after me if i stay up reading, then.”

“no, just the fact that you still need sleep.”

jon said matter-of-factly, “then i’ll sleep in the car.”

martin said, “even if you really meant that, i’d be bored.”

something about jon’s expression shifted a little, but he looked away before martin could pinpoint it. “i’ll sleep if it catches up with me, alright?”

“alright.” martin agreed with a smile, and then softened and added, “i guess it can’t… _really_ hurt to read a while longer.”

jon snorted a little laugh, and they settled back into that companionable silence. martin was nearly halfway through his book when he became distantly aware he hadn’t heard jon turn his page in a while, and looked up to find jon on his side, facing martin, his book closed over his hand, very much asleep.

martin figured if jon was falling asleep so easily, he really needed it. after closing his own book, he took care to try and click the lamp off quietly, and debated it in his head for a while before deciding not to try and take the book from jon, in case it woke him. his glasses were askew and martin just hoped they wouldn’t get bent out of shape somehow.

it might have been more comfortable to go change into his pyjamas, but he was worried about how loudly his bag unzipped, so he decided against that, too- luckily, he had been wearing what he thought would be comfortable in the car, and that worked here too. he got settled under the covers and waited for sleep to take him.

and yet.

he didn’t even feel restless- he just couldn’t seem to convince himself he was tired. after a while, he couldn’t even keep his eyes closed, and took to staring at the awful popcorn ceiling. the ambient light was just enough that he realised he’d been staring so long it started to look like it was moving, so he quickly turned his head and his eyes fell on jon.

he immediately relaxed, which made him realise he had been tense in the first place. even in the daylight, martin was mostly past feeling embarrassed about the way jon made him feel- it was a years-old fact of life- and now in the dark, in the strange inn room, he softened into the familiarity of it just a little. even asleep, jon being there made martin feel more at ease.

martin let himself look. jon’s expression was a little softer than it had been earlier in the flat, all angles like always. now, the crease between his brows was smoothed out, his face pushed partly into his pillow, squishing one cheek. his lips were parted just slightly, and martin was only a fraction of a fraction as embarrassed as he normally was when he realised he was staring, barely enough to make him turn his eyes to jon’s jaw. it was probably too dark in the room for him to really be able to make out the exact way it curved into shadow, but martin knew it anyways, for all the times his eyes had found their way there.

he could have written about it once, maybe. jon himself, but also about wanting so badly to be there, to be allowed to do something about this, to match imagery to the way his heart constricted more every second he looked at jon.

still staring at jon, his mind turned once again to trying to figure things out. it was distant in his head, but he remembered jon in the lonely. his hands started to feel staticy just like they did every time he tried to figure it out, but he ignored it. 

he remembered jon, looking more stricken than martin had ever seen him. speaking to him, softly, calling to him. he remembered jon saying something- something so gentle it hurt, but of course martin had replied… the way he had. remembering that sparked the memory of jon saying ‘i need you’ like it hurt. and then, of course, jon kneeling to meet martin’s eyes, turning his face to look into them. he remembered that. he remembered the hug, and everything after, jon holding him while he tried to pull himself back together, taking his hand and leading them out.

martin felt the fuzz encroaching, up to his forearms, starting in his toes, around his throat, but he kept pushing it away so he could think.

he’d had an idea since that jon’s feelings had changed. why would jon need him otherwise? he squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again, gazing over at jon as he shifted ever so slightly in his sleep, moving his hand out from between the pages of his book. of course martin had hoped- the extra stammering, the blushing, jon taking his hand to steady either martin or himself yet again today- it made sense. but what had he done recently to warrant jon returning his feelings at all? that was where he got caught up. what reason did jon have to run into the lonely after him?

the fuzz crawled up his throat, through his chest toward his heart, and martin looked over desperately at jon again to remind himself he wasn’t alone. jon was here. jon could be his anchor again, breathing slowly in his sleep. martin tried to match his breaths, only realising then how shaky his own were.

he waited a long time before he let himself think about it again. jon wasn’t stupid. he did things for a reason, he acted the way he did for a reason. he jumped into the lonely for a reason. martin knew that, but the disconnect was still there. even if he accepted that jon really did return his feelings, he couldn’t puzzle out _why_.

turning back so he faced the ceiling again, he rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes until the only fuzz he saw was the strange patterns the pressure created. he had to sleep. he was _driving_ tomorrow, so he had to sleep.

eventually, mercifully, he did.

he dreamt, unfortunately- something about the nursing home calling him about a problem, and then it faded into a cold grey beach that was all too silent, the lack of sound so deafening he couldn’t hear himself when he spoke. the empty static started to fill his ears, but he woke before it could crescendo.

martin kept his eyes closed for a moment, just breathing and listening to the sound of it. it was almost funny how relieved he was when he felt one very dramatic tear roll down his cheek, because it was odd to be relieved he was crying, but here he was. slowly, he noticed the pressure of eyes on him- not uncomfortable, but definitely noticeable, and he opened his eyes and looked over to find jon, already changed, looking almost concerned, his eyes resting on martin.

jon immediately startled and looked away, his cheeks lighting up. “s-sorry, i just, ah- i was debating waking you up.” jon looked at his hands, twisting them anxiously, but martin could swear he could still tangibly _feel_ jon’s attention on him. “you looked… well, it’s late.”

martin brought a hand up to casually wipe away the tear and then rub his eyes. “how late?” he sat up and looked at his phone. “oh, bloody hell, jon, it’s nearly ten-”

“you needed sleep, too.” jon told him, a little sternly. “i don’t know the last time you really rested, and i doubt you do either. we don’t have to be there at any specific time.”

begrudgingly, martin stopped scrambling to untangle himself from the covers.

“i was going to go see if they had any kind of breakfast set out.” jon continued. “would you like anything?”

martin ignored his heart doing a flip. “cup of tea, maybe.” his voice cracked just a bit on the last syllable and he cleared his throat. “i’ll, er, get ready while you’re out, then.”

jon’s face did something unreadable as he looked back up at martin for a moment, but then he got up and went to the door. “i’ll see if they have anything good.”

as soon as jon left, martin freed himself from the covers and unzipped his bag to get his clothes and toothbrush. he brought everything to the bathroom and got ready quickly as he could- jon was right, there was no rush, but he couldn’t help it.

he went back to pack everything up, and was just finishing when jon came back in, awkwardly shouldering the door open, balancing a paper plate of food and two polystyrene cups.

martin got up to take the cups from him and jon nodded gratefully. “the, uh, lighter one is mine. i realised i didn’t know how you take your tea and it- i should just ask, not Know. so i hope it’s alright.”

the whole thing made martin’s heart flip again. “i’m not picky, it’ll be lovely.“ he took a sip of the tea jon had made him, and had to fight back making a face- there was so much sugar in it he might have gone blind if he’d taken a sip any bigger. “i’ll show you next time, though.”

jon actually laughed, which made martin’s heart do yet _another_ flip. “you don’t have to drink it.”

“it’s good.” martin said, holding the cup closer to him.

jon shook his head. “alright, martin, if you say so.” he set down the plate on the bedside table and martin took a piece of fruit from it as jon continued, “we’ll eat and then we can go.”

jon packed up the rest of his things between bites of food, and martin tentatively sipped his tea. when jon looked over as he took a sip he nodded his head and gave him a very dramatic thumbs up, and jon rolled his eyes.

when they left, martin took the drivers’ side with another sweet smile over at jon. he found that the air between them was less tense today- conversation came a little easier, less awkwardness, though it was still there- and the drive flew by.

they were commenting on all the rolling fields and animals when martin realised they were already pulling onto the long, winding road that led to the cottage. they pulled up to a sturdy, old fashioned building that was very distinctly not daisy-like at all.

“i suppose it can’t seem too much like her kind of place if she’s hiding out in it.” jon said, almost to himself.

turning off the car, he said, “yeah, that makes sense. it’s still odd.”

they got out and grabbed all their things, and jon took the key to the door out of pocket. “you want to do the honors?”

“go ahead.” martin shook his head. walking up the gravel path with jon felt strange. it kept occurring to him that they were sort of _living together_ now, and he couldn’t tell if he was anxious or giddy from the idea of it.

jon opened the door, and martin’s giddiness was covered in a layer of dust as thick as the one that sat over everything in the cabin.

he let out a breathy laugh. “we’ve got our work cut out for us, then.”

“let’s… set our things down, at least. there’ve got to be… bedrooms, somewhere.” jon mused, making martin snort again.

“probably, yeah.” he followed jon through the cabin, glancing it over. it was pretty, and martin could tell once it was clean it would be quite cozy.

jon stopped in the last doorway in the hall, and said a little haltingly, “well, i don’t mind taking the couch.”

martin looked over jon’s shoulder to see the one large bed in the room. of course. why would daisy need more than one bedroom in her safehouse?

his mind moved at a stumbling pace as he said “no- i- i ca- actually, jon?” he regretted it as soon as it left his mouth, but it was too late. there was no coming back from it, because he knew jon would know where he’d been going with it whether he said it or not, he was thinking so loud. “i don’t- want to be alone. sorry. it’s- if you want, of course, the couch is fine, or i can-”

“martin.” jon interrupted softly.

martin very pointedly did not look at jon.

“it’s- there’s plenty of space.” martin very pointedly did not notice jon’s ears going red. “i understand. and- you’re not sleeping on the floor again.”

it would be laughable from the outside, martin knew, the two of them awkwardly walking in and choosing a side of the bed to set their things by.

“we ought to wash these and start cleaning.” martin said, finally, tugging at the pillowcase on his side as he turned from his bedside table. “not exactly healthy to… sleep on a layer of dust.”

cleaning was more enjoyable than martin had ever found it before. he stripped the bedsheets while jon went and figured out the washer, and then they started in on dusting. martin bit back a laugh every time he spotted jon hefting along a chair from the table so he could reach the tops of things, and both of them sneezed every time they kicked up a new dust cloud.

martin ran a hoover around while jon sort of trailed after him, straightening up. “you could sweep, if you like.” martin suggested, raising his voice over the drone of the hoover.

“i’d rather finish this room.” jon said, and martin pondered for half a second whether jon realised he was following, or just tidying at his own pace- but then realised. he was sticking close like martin had asked.

they had to talk about it. martin clicked off the hoover and jon’s eyes snapped up to his. “wh- martin?”

“i started working f- with peter lukas because you were gone.” martin began. he knew jon knew this, but he figured it wouldn’t be right to jump in anywhere else.

jon nodded, still looking at him, still a little wide-eyed. martin blinked his attention away from a pale scar under his eye and continued.

“y- you, and my mum. i couldn’t help anyone like i was, anyways, so- i dunno. you get it.”

“i do.” jon said, his voice soft.

martin sighed and continued, “i- so when you came back... “ he broke off. there was no nice way to put ‘i gave up on you because you were dead and i thought i might get the chance too’. “i was already… he already… it didn’t matter anymore. i could- i could help you and stay alone.”

of course, jon’s face did something martin couldn’t read, which only made it harder to sort his words out, to avoid saying something horrible and upsetting. “i wanted to know, i guess. what he was doing. what he wanted. and i- maybe i didn’t want out anymore. it was easy, and th- this, god, this is so much harder.” martin said, letting out a hollow little laugh.

jon’s face shifted again, and martin could make out the guilt he felt as he started, “martin, i-”

“no- don’t you- jon, just listen. please, i just- please.” he took a shaky breath, trying and failing to figure out what to say. “it isn’t all about you, and that’s not meant to be a bad thing, okay? it wasn’t just because of you, what i did. i can- can make choices, and i did, that are selfish and s-stupid. you’re not going to sit here and blame yourself for something i did, alright?”

there was a long moment of silence as jon’s mouth opened just slightly. martin had never really thought jon could be at a loss for words, but here he was. finally, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again as he said, “alright. you’re right.”

martin’s words caught up with him, next. “sorry, that was…”

“no.” jon shook his head. “you’re right. i trust you.”

it was maybe the sixteenth time today jon said something that made martin’s heart do an olympic routine. “thank you.”

jon did a half nod, half shrug, and looked pointedly down to continue straightening the knick knacks on the table beside the couch.

martin wanted to press more, to figure out how jon was feeling, but it felt like too much to do all at one time, so they went back to cleaning.

eventually, they realised, they needed to eat, so jon raided the cupboards and found an awful lot of pre-packaged and tinned food.

“this- well, this might be your night to cook, martin.” he deadpanned, sliding a few cans across the freshly cleaned countertop.

martin rolled his eyes and found them some plates and utensils. the food was not at all satisfying, but it seemed like if either of them cared, it didn’t matter enough to mention while they ate. exhaustion was starting to hit martin all at once, until he finally said, “i’ve got to go shower, i’m dozing off into my… i think it was chicken and veggies, right?”

jon nodded and breathed a laugh. “alright. i’ll get the sheets on the bed.”

“forgot about them.” martin decided right then that jon was a saint. he hated fighting with a fitted sheet, and jon was a saint for offering. “i’ll rush, though, i don’t know how much hot water we can hope for.”

a quick shower and night-time routine later, martin sat on the end of the bed, suddenly faced again with the realisation that he was sharing a bed with jon. the word crush was so childish, but that’s what it was. his crush. he got up to pick up one of his new books and then settle himself under the covers, sitting as far over on his side as he could be without risk of falling. reading would distract him, he figured, and stared at the first page.

he was exactly a sentence into the book ten minutes later when jon walked in, his hair damp and martin’s borrowed sweatshirt serving as a pyjama top. martin, who had forgotten about this, snapped his eyes back down at his book.

“a layer of dust must have come off me.” jon said, almost hesitantly, as if he was testing the waters.

martin snorted at the statement and the absurdity of the whole thing. “yeah, me too.”

“h-how’s… which one is that?” jon motioned at martin’s book as he lifted the covers on his side of the bed.

with a shrug, martin said, “i dunno yet. it’s a bunch of plays. i- i can’t really focus, i think it’s- i’m tired.”

jon agreed with a little hum. “i don’t mind turning the light out, then.”

there was a moment of quiet, and then martin said quietly, “alright.” he closed his book and set it down on the bedside table, clicking his lamp off. he turned away from jon and moved to lay down, trying not to pull too much on the covers as jon turned his own lamp off.

they both settled, and martin forced his eyes closed, trying to reassure himself with the fact that there was probably at least a foot of space between them.

then jon, out of nowhere, said very quietly, “goodnight.”

martin’s heart seized up a little and he replied, equally as softly, “goodnight.”


End file.
